


Barnes versus Fenty

by anonymousmadame2911



Category: James "Bucky" Barnes - Fandom, Winter Soldier - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fashion Show, Fingering, Hand Job, Lingerie, Oral Sex, Smut, Vibrator, cunninglingus, sex toy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-23 09:27:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20006026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymousmadame2911/pseuds/anonymousmadame2911
Summary: The world famous case of James Buchanan Barnes and Fenty.But seriously, it's just smut.





	Barnes versus Fenty

“Yes. Yes. Yes. Let’s do this.”

You’d just received the call from your agent that Fenty would be casting you in their spring/summer lingerie collection. This was it. This. Was. It. This would take you to the next level. You were a size 8, which in the modeling world is considered big. You had B cups, but ass and legs that wouldn’t quit. Your walk was murder. You might never be a size 0 with C cups, but you knew that you could walk with the best of ‘em if the industry would just give you half a chance. You were ecstatic. You were buzzing. You practiced your walk and your pose for twenty minutes—not that you would admit that to anyone—and threw on all black. They wanted to see you for a second time so they could take Polaroids for the hair and makeup team.   
The creative director assigned you to wear a sheer, red lace body suit with bright red lipstick and a pixie cut. You were ready to kill it. Other girls kept peaking into the audience, which is a big no-no.

“Manda. Pst! Hey! Manda! What’s going on?”

“Rihanna invited the Avengers! They’re supposed to be front row.”

“You are so full of shit. I swear to God. Wasn’t what’s-his name on trial at the Hague? Or the ICJ? The Winter Soldier?”

“James Buchanan Barnes?”

“Yeah! That’s him. Wasn’t he just on trial? What would he be doing here?”

“Girl. You have got to keep up. He was on trial, but the US isn’t a member of the ICJ. So. When they found him guilty, the US refused to accept the verdict. So! He can stay in the US, but if he leaves, Interpol can extradite him back to the Hague.”

“Oh. My point is they aren’t gonna be here. They got better things to do.”

“Anyways. Come and get me before you leave.”

“Are you going to the after party?”

“Hello! And we’re gonna share a Lyft.”

“Girls! Quiet down. The show’s gonna start in about 5 minutes. Take your places.”

Glasses of champagne were passed around before the show started for the girls. You grabbed a glass to calm your nerves. You stood in line with the rest of the girls. When it was your turn, you pushed up your 2 handfuls, teased your nipples a bit, and took the stage. The driving bass washed through you. You hit all your marks and killed your pose—and over-the-shoulder wink. You returned back stage to change. 

“Did you see them” Amanda squealed at you.

“Who?”

“The Avengers! Three of them. Front. Row.”

“Three? I thought there were more of them…?”

“Girl. They probably off fighting aliens again or something. I bet they’re going to the after-party.”

“What about you?! Are YOU ready for the after-party?! You all up in everybody else’s business! Go get ready.”

At that moment, a deep voice cleared his throat. The two of you looked up to see Mr. Murder Strut himself. 

“Are you part of the show,” you said, eyeing him up.

“Uh. No,” he replied softly, “I have been requisitioned with taking you to the after-party.”

“You’re funny. Give me a few minutes to change.”

You slowly pulled the straps of your body suit down while looking him dead in the eye.

“Are you going to keep staring or can I have some privacy?”

“Oh. Right.” 

A blush rose from his neck to the tip of his ears. He turned his back to you, while you changed into a sheer, white top, black leggings, a black leather jacket, and sneakers. You would forego the bra for one night—not that it made a difference. You grabbed your friend Amanda and returned to Bucky. 

“This is my friend Amanda. We do everything together.”

“Hi James.”

“Just…Bucky. It’s fine. Just call me Bucky.”

“Lyft is gonna be here in a few minutes. Let’s get outside,” you mumbled walking off, “Bucky? You got the address to the party?”

“Um…yeah. It’s on the Upper West Side. Here.”

You plugged the address into the Lyft ride request and got a ride. The three of you squished into the back seat—two plus-sized models and one super-soldier weren’t meant to fit in the back of a sedan. 

“Listen, Vanilla Ice, we don’t need a baby sitter. Feel free to do whatever you want tonight.”

You were already tipsy from the two glasses of champagne and lack of food in your stomach. You had turned off the filter from your brain to your mouth. The party was in full swing by the time the three of you arrived. Amanda disappeared into the crush of bodies to say hi to some of her friends. Bucky stayed tucked up behind you while you made your way to find food. 

“Oh hey! There are your friends over there.”

In the distance, you made out Captain America and Tony Stark standing in a group conversing with Rihanna and some other big wigs. You weren’t really sure who they were, but they were at your casting and they seemed pretty important. He patted your hip.

“I’m gonna say hi.”

He walked off, leaving you with the hors d’oeurves. You’re not exactly sure what you ate, but it was enough to stem the hunger until you could leave the party. You grabbed another glass of champagne and wandered off to find Amanda. 

“I wonder if they can turn on and turn off their super hearing.”

You had ended up in the middle of a conversation on the finer points of super-soldier serum and precisely what it did and did not affect. Quite frankly, you didn’t care.

“Try it. I dare you. Do it.”

One of Amanda’s friends whispered that she wanted to fuck Bucky and Captain America at the same time. No reaction from the men across the room. No flinch. No fidget. 

“My friend just texted that they’re going to the club up the street. Y’all wanna go.”

“Yeah. Why not? It’s not like we’re doing anything exciting here.”

“Well, go get your boo,” Amanda said looking at you.

“Not. My. Boo.” You glared at her.

You approached the group of men and grabbed the inside of Bucky’s elbow. 

“We’re going clubbing. Bye.”

Bucky didn’t have time to respond before you were dragging him out of the party behind Amanda and her friends. The group of you ended up at Pyramid, a gay club that played 80s and 90s music. Clearly the electric bill was too high so they kept all the lights off except for a few laser lights. By drink #4, you were dancing up a storm with your friend. By drink #5, you had Bucky in a lip lock off to the side of the dance floor. By drink #6, you were grinding on him, feeling his length with your ass. By drink #6, you were pulling him into another Lyft.

“Wait. Wait a minute. Take it easy. I don’t want the driver to give me one star,” you whispered dramatically.

He laughed and slid to the other side of the back seat. You pulled off your jacket, and perhaps you were poking your chest out a bit more—who’s to say? You tripped out of the back of the car and dragged him up to your apartment. 

“Listen, uhhhhhhhhhhhh Mr. Serial Killer. I don’t really bring murderers to my apartment on the first night,” you said matter-of-factly.

“How about I murder that pussy? I heard what you and your friends said at the party.”

“Uh. Uh. How about you take your shoes off when you enter my apartment?”

Who taught this man that?! You could barely keep it together enough to open the front door, before the two of you were locked in a passionate kiss. You felt your way to your bedroom with one hand feeling your way down the wall and the other dragging Bucky behind you. You flipped his belt open and unbuckled his dark wash jeans. You slid your hands under his soft cotton T-shirt and scratched at his lower back. You pushed his shirt up and over his chest and shoulders. He pulled it off the rest of the way. He peeled your leggings and thong off your legs and grabbed two handfuls of your ass.

“Mmm. Yes. I’ve been dying to do that all night.”

He gave it playful slap and you squeaked.

“Your’s is pretty nice too.”

You slipped your hands past the elastic of his Calvin Klein boxer briefs and grabbed two handfuls. You gave them a nice hefty squeeze. You looked into his eyes and he bit his lower lip.  
“Oh you’re gonna be trouble for me. I can tell,” you told him.

He slid his fingers under your shirt and massaged your boobs. He pushed up your shirt and licked each nipple. You pulled your shirt off the rest of the way. 

“God. You in that red teddy had me hard. Can I tell you the truth? I asked Stark to introduce me to you. I just had to talk to you.”

He knew all the right things to say to make you wet. You ran your fingers along the inside of the elastic of his Calvin Kleins and brushed the tip of his dick. He jerked his hips involuntarily. 

“Careful there, angel.”

“No. I won’t be.”

You pushed him onto your bed and kneeled between his knees. His dick stood proudly at attention, waiting for your attention. You were ready to give it some. You slowly licked him from under his balls, between them, up the underside of the shaft, finishing at the tip. You slowly took the tip in your mouth and gently ran your teeth down the shaft. He bucked his hips up. You had no intention of playing nice tonight. 

“Listen Fucky Barnes, I don’t know if I can trust you.”

You reach into your night stand and pull out some red straps. 

“What’s that?”

“Restraints.”

He puts his wrists in front of him. You show him how to pull on the Velcro to release himself from the straps—if he wants. You tie him down to your bed and shuffle down to his dick. You firmly twist up and down his length. You push your boobs together, giving him a nice view. You reach into your night stand and pull out your vibrator.

“No babe. No. Please let me,” he begs. 

You settle between his legs, giving him an unforgettable view. You turn the vibrator and low and roll it from the hood of your pussy down to your entrance, teasing your clit. You rock your hips into it, not wanting to delay your orgasm. That familiar tension in your lower belly builds. You have lost all control over your hips. Then, you hear a rip. Bucky pulls the vibrator from your hand and throws it on the floor. He crowds you into the mattress. You push your hands back against his chest.

“Wait a minute! Wait. A. Minute. You fuck up my hair, I’ll kill you. Don’t pull on my hair and don’t choke me. Or I’ll punch your teeth in.”

He nods, smiles and places an innocent kiss on your lips. He massages your pussy with the tip of his dick. He pumps the full length of his dick into you in one thrust, knocking the air out of your lungs. You weren’t prepared for this. He sets a furious pace. You get your bearings quickly and match him thrust for thrust. You grab his metal hand.

“Does it vibrate?”

You hear that familiar buzzing and push his metal fingers between your legs. He presses it firmly against your throbbing pussy and you jerk. The vibrations increase and the tension snaps. Your toes curl. You grab the sheets and a wave a relaxation and warmth floods your body. You feel good. You feel REALLY good. Your body goes limp. Bucky is still hard. He’s still thrusting into you and you push him off of you. You get on your hands and knees and he slides right into you. He grabs your hips and roll your hips back into him. His whole body stills and you know he likes what you just did. You did it again. This time more viciously. You own his dick. You roll and roll your hips until he’s pushing you away. He quivers and lets out a broken groan. His hot cum paints your ass and lower back. He slowly regains his breath. 

“I—uck—wow—wa—was not ex—expecting that to—tonight,” he hiccups out.

“Little help,” you say as you gesture to the mess he made.

He cleans you up and the both of you visit your bathroom. You awake the next morning to Bucky sleeping with his back to you. You gently kiss on his neck and shoulders to wake him up. He doesn’t stir. You wiggle closer to him and slip your hand over his hip. Hello morning wood! You stroke his hard on a few times until he groans and flops on his back. 

“Morning sunshine,” you purr at him, “Breakfast?”

He squints with one eye open and one arm thrown over his face. 

“Hm.”

A breeze of minty freshness wafts from his luscious mouth. When did he have time to brush his teeth?! He sits up and kisses you. He cups the back of your neck and pulls you closer to him. He nudges you down into the mattress. You can’t help but think: a black woman with a man with a record. What a cliché. A giggle escapes from between your lips at the thought. He misinterprets the giggle and vigorously rubs his stubble-covered chin across your belly. You squeal and push him away through fits of laughter. He continues his trek down your body. He nips at your hip bone and kisses his way straight to the hood of your pussy. He licks it and sucks it without preamble. You nearly leap off the bed. This man intends to melt your brain today with his tongue technique. He thoroughly licks between your folds from your entrance, around your clit and up to your hood. He sucks it into his mouth again. He works his way to your clit and licks around it, teasing you. He thrusts his tongue into you and flicks it up to your clit. You feel the heat building on your skin and the coil twisting in your belly. You rock your hips against his face. He fucks you with his tongue until the coil snaps in your belly. You quiver and shudder against his tongue. Pleasure rolls through you. You feel peaceful—calm—perfect. Through broken gasps, you tap his head.

“Bu-Bucky. Fuck! Uh! St—stop.”

He falls back onto the mattress and wipes his mouth and chin with the back of his hand. The doorbell rings and you have no intention of opening it. You lie there hoping that whoever it is will go away. A familiar deep voice calls for Bucky. The two of you get up. You make no attempt to fix you hair, which is sticking up in every direction. You swing the door open.

“Wrong apartment. He’s not here.”

“But…he’s standing…right there.”

“You clearly are hallucinating,” you huff at him.

“Buck. Come on. We got a mission.”

Bucky silently walks past you and gives you a quick peck on the lips.

“I’ll call you babe.”

“Yeah sure,” you reply flatly.

You hadn’t given him your number so how would he even call you? 

5 minutes later you receive a text from an unknown number. 

“Hey, babe. It’s Bucky. I used to be a spy, remember? Hope to see you soon.”


End file.
